


Memories

by KayMayStarache



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Nightmares, Post-Calamity Ganon, Romantic Tension, Sharing a Bed, Short One Shot, Zelda has some issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 05:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19202998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayMayStarache/pseuds/KayMayStarache
Summary: Sometimes, memories can be the worst form of torture.A short one-shot set post-calamity.





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first contribution to the Legend of Zelda fandom, and hopefully far from my last. I have so many more ideas buzzing around, especially after E3! Enjoy this short story for now, and look forward for what's to come! Thank you for reading - and of course comments are always appreciated.

The restless crickets chirped loudly outside the little home in Hateno, the moon high in the sky and streaming beams of light through the thin curtains of the windows. Link shifted in his sleep, entangling his legs in the mess of blankets strewn over the cot.   
It had been nearly a week since the defeat of the Calamity, and by the advice of Impa and the consistent nagging of Purah, Zelda had agreed to take some much needed time to recuperate. When Link had nonchalantly suggested his home in Hateno as a place for her to regain her energy, the princess was a little more than shocked. 

Much of that first night was spent arguing over who would sleep in the bed up on the loft, and much to Zelda’s chagrin, her exhaustion and Link’s persistence eventually won. The princess had slunk up the stairs to bed after her defeat, and vowed they would revisit the matter again in the morning. No such thing had occurred – thank Hylia – as Link was more than willing to sleep downstairs.

But this night had brought an uncharacteristic chill for the time of year, so Link had let the fire burn a little longer into the night, staying awake to watch the last of the flames die out as Zelda slept upstairs. It’s only after midnight when he finally crawls underneath his blankets, checking to make sure the master sword is tucked safely beside his cot, and drifts off to sleep. It is only a few hours later that he is awoken by a blood curdling scream. 

His eyes are open in an instant, and the recognition of Zelda’s scream and the urgent wails of his name kick his adrenaline into overdrive. Link struggles the blankets off from around his legs, crouching to scoop up the master sword as he rolls out of the cot. His mind goes to the unimaginable... 

A Yiga clansman.

A rogue monster. 

Or worse, 

Ganon. 

It takes a matter of seconds for Link to sprint up the stairs, sword in hand, prepared to face whatever lie waiting for him. He can feel the heat in his chest and face spurring him on, and when he reaches the loft he is welcomed by the sight – 

of nothing. 

There Zelda lay, sweat plastering the golden strands of her hair to her forehead as she tosses violently underneath the blankets. Small whimpers leave her lips, and she gasps in a breath before resuming the horrible wailing of his name. 

The adrenaline leaves Link’s body in a rush, nearly causing his knees to collapse in relief, and he quietly sets down the master sword on the desk as he approaches her distraught form. Unsure of how to wake her without causing more distress, he hovers nervously near the end of the bed, arms outstretched but not reaching.   
She wails his name again, and he can see tears flowing down the flushed skin of her cheeks. His heart contracts, and ignoring the fact that he’s only dressed in his underwear and that it goes extremely against what he can remember of royal code, he falls to his knees at her bedside and runs his hands softly through her hair. 

She flinches slightly at his touch in her sleep, and he shushes her quietly as he continues to smooth her hair between his fingers. Her breathing is still rapid and broken, and so he takes another risk, and whispers her name. 

It’s almost as if she’s been slapped – her eyes shoot open at an inhuman speed, and Link almost falls backwards when she stares directly at him, her emerald eyes sparkling with unshed tears. 

“Link?” she whispers, her voice course and ragged from screaming. His hand is still in her hair, his thumb dragging on the edge of her forehead. 

He nods, afraid his voice will betray how scared he was just moments ago. 

“Oh no... did I wake you?” she asks, moving to sit up. He removes his hands from around her face and gets up off the floor, sitting in the small space between her body and the edge of the bed. 

He simply shakes his head, his eyes grazing over her. She’s still trembling, and he digs his fingernails into his palms to keep from reaching for her again. 

“Was it a nightmare?” He says eventually, softly. 

She can barely look at him, and she drags her knees up to her chest, hugging them to her tightly. 

She sighs. “No... a memory.” 

A violent shiver rips through her body, and with every ounce of energy left in her she lifts her chin to look him in the eyes. It’s dark in the loft, save for the soft moonlight filtering through the window, so she reaches out to find his hand.   
She hears his sudden intake of breath when her hand slips over top of his, and bites her tongue as an apology makes its way up her throat. She needs to feel that he is real in this moment, touch him with her own two hands. She says nothing, closes her eyes - and when Link turns his palm skyward, catches her fingers between his, she nearly sobs at the sensation. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He whispers, running a thumb gently across her knuckles. 

Slowly, he watches as she opens her eyes. She scans over his face, and he senses rather than sees her gaze drift downwards across his chest and lower still. He’s painfully aware of his state of undress, and resists the urge to pull away and put some distance between them. She grips his hand like a vice, so he stays put. He listens to her breathing, less frantic now than it was when she first awoke. 

She sucks in a shuddering breath, and with her eyes still plastered on his body, lifts her free hand from where its settled on top of her knee and places it on his chest.

Link’s first instinct is to move away, but the gentle tracing of her fingertips catches him off guard, and the curiosity renders him immobile. 

Zelda’s hand flits across his collarbone, her fingers barely grazing his skin, following a path that is both unfamiliar and hauntingly vivid to him. He looks down to watch her hand moving in its reverent motions, and then lifts his gaze back to her face only to find it contorted with emotion, the moonlight causing the tears in her eyes to glisten and sparkle. 

His chest is suddenly tight, as if a weight has settled there. 

“Zelda?” He calls to her, softly, so as not to disturb her ministrations. 

“You died that night...” She chokes, “right there in my arms. And I could do nothing to stop it... I was too late.” 

Her voice catches, and a small sob escapes before she can stop it. Her fingers are still moving, tracing. 

“And this...” she continues, “is the proof of that failure. Proof of the memory that haunts my dreams...” 

Link realizes, suddenly, that she’s been fixated on his scar. He hardly notices it, it’s a part of him – a relic almost, from an age long past, one he barely remembers. But for Zelda, it’s fresh. She traces every tendril of tissue from the laser wound, and when she finally reaches the center she splays her hand flat against it and screws her eyes shut tightly, tears escaping down her cheeks. 

He can remember the overwhelming emotion that had coursed through his body each and every time he recovered a memory during his travels. He knows the pain of reliving them, some more anguishing than others. Some nights he can recall, he was reluctant to sleep in fear that he would close his eyes and see Mipha’s gentle face, feel Daruk’s steady hands, hear Urbosa’s fearless laughter, or taste the wind left by Revali’s gale. 

But what he feared most of all, was to close his eyes and see the face of his Princess. Her emerald eyes wide and frightened, her voice high and desperate as she pleads with him to run, save himself – feels her hands at his back and around his neck, cradling his body as his world goes black. 

Link grabs her hand, and waits for Zelda to open her eyes. She blinks at him in mild confusion, and he lifts her hand to his mouth – kisses her palm lightly. He keeps it there for a moment, closing his eyes and just breathing, and then places it on the other side of his chest – straight above his heart. He places his hand on top of hers, and looks her in the eyes, hoping she understands his sentiment. 

I’m here. He’s saying. I’m alive. 

“Will you stay with me?” she eventually asks, her voice steady and sure despite her anxiety. 

Link simply nods, and stands from his seat on the edge of the bed to walk around to the other side and slide underneath the covers. He’s uncomfortably distant from her at first, lying stiff as a board on his back – but when she lowers herself back down underneath the blankets and rolls on her side to place a hand on his shoulder, the tension evaporates from his body and he turns his head to face her. Even in the dim light of the room she can see the small smile on his face. 

She whispers an apology for everything; for waking him, scaring him, crying to him... failing him. But Link shakes his head, whispers a, “No...” and moves to pull her to his chest. 

With her head tucked under his chin and an arm wrapped securely around his middle, Zelda lets the faint sound of his heartbeat against her ear sing her to sleep.


End file.
